Dancing and the German boy

Not that kind where everyone stands in a large
circle and sort of bobs oneself to the music whilst finding something to do
with ones hands so as not to let them hang awkwardly by ones sides. Mmmmmmm,
no.

Not the
kind of dancing that takes place in dark, crowded clubs, closely surrounded by
gyrating girls and nimble footed boys.

Put me in these dancing environments and i find
the most comfortable couch in a prime position (house parties with accompanying
house music - shudder), a patch of grass, the quickest strategy of departure
(usually the way i came in, 15 minutes later), the loneliest corner, i keep the
table safe, i cross my legs and fold my arms and look disdainful, i finish the
snacks, i text, i look bored, i waylay people and talk to them, i stare at my
fingernails and into the distance... But i do not join in the dancing!

There is a fair amount of dancing i cannot do.
But, i do enjoy, and am fairly good at, 'proper dancing'.

"Isn't 'jamming with your mates to a sweet
track' proper dancing?” you may ask.

"No."

"Oh."

Silence

"So what is this 'proper dancing' you speak
of?"

"Well, young 'un, i say, it’s the 1,2,3..
1,2,3 kind of dancing."

Partner dancing, ballroom, latin and even
sokkie. The kind of dancing where you are firmly grasped by your partner and
whirled across the dance floor.

"Why, you ask, is 'proper dancing' so great
in your eyes?"

Let me
tell you a story. Come, sit here by me.

Once
upon a time, not long ago, in Pretoria, a land next to Johannesburg there was a
dance evening attended by a curly headed girl, from Benoni and her short
friend, Christine A.

This
girl is me.

Christine
S, who works with me, told me about this dancing place. It is a place, she
said, where you can sokkie. (Sokkieis a style of music and
dance unique to Southern Africa and popular mostly with Afrikaners, thank you
Wikipedia) So i invited Christine A along and off we went to dance in Pretoria.

We began
the evening with some half shouted introductions across the table; Hi my name
is Chriakdhfsfian, pleased to meet you. Wait, what was his name again? Who knows?
We sit at the table, a table full of strangers. We, the Christines and i, talk with one
another, i feel a little awkward. i cross my legs and fold my arms.

Chriakdhfsfian
asks me to dance.

And so it
begins.

Once
you’ve been out once on the dance floor the other boys must feel it is ok to
dance with you because, thereafter, you get asked to dance at a steady rate. It
starts with the boys at your table and ripples out into the hall and the dance
invitations from the males at other tables begin.

They
approach you while you sit at the table. They waylay you as you come off the
dance floor. They jump up into your path and belt out the: “Would you like to
dance?” question.

i say
yes.

Every
time.

Because i
love dancing.

There are
a variety of conversation topics that get brought up when dancing with
strangers. There is the usual, age, name, vocation etc and then the unique,
toothbrush colours, guesses at your heritage due to your curly hair and the
declaration that your blouse looks like a Grandmothers curtains.

Some give you
dancing advice: Smile, stand straighter, put your hand here, pretend you are an
ice skater. Some exclaim, ‘I thought I was never going to see you again’.

The
evening wears on and i encounter a variety of boys.

-The sing along to the song type

-The ones that stare at you oddly as they spin you
around

-Very sweaty ones

-Ones that don’t dance too well and ones that
dance amazingly

-Some are English, most are Afrikaans

-Boring ones, flirty ones and silent ones

-Ones that you hope don’t come back for a second
dance and ones that you really hope do

-And one German that danced so well that i had stranger
crush on him for the next 3 months. It wasn't a big crush; it was just that i
have yet to dance with someone who dances as well as he did. His movements were
fluid and smooth and he spun and dipped me and literally swept me off my feet. He
was, of course, also good looking, charming and witty. He is the kind of dancer
that makes you feel like you’re the only one on the dance floor with him; he
looks into your eyes and has an unwavering gaze. He is appreciative and complimentary
of one’s femininity.

-Ok, maybe it
was a 4 month crush

“Yeah, Yeah, a good looking
German. All this is well and good, you say, but you still haven’t told me why
it is you love dancing so much“

That is true

The best
kind of dancers and dancing is the kind that brings you back to dancing evening
after evening, the kind that instills in you a love for dancing, for movement,
for music.

The best kind
of dancers are the ones that smile at you and laugh with you when you stumble,
the kind that make you feel like a lady, feel beautiful and graceful. The kind
that dance beautifully and lead you just as well, you float across the hall,
you trust your partner as he drops you towards the floor in a variety of dips,
you twist and your skirt whips around you as you spin and twist.